


Promises

by twistedrunes



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, F/M, Gun Violence, Miscarriage, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 17:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: Prompts:1.     Thomas Shelby reaction to female lover being shot and lying bleeding in his arms. You can use any name you like or use Y/N in the request. I’m not picky.2. My request is for Tommy Shelby. I’d like something on the lines of the female OC pregnant) out and about and being attacked by an abusive ex and beaten black and blue. Lots of blood, lots of swelling, pretty brutal. Anyways she ends up losing the baby because of it. I’d like something on the lines of Tommy grieving the loss of his unborn child and his seemingly dying liver (it’s up to you whether she lives or dies). Maybe he goes after the guy who did this to her.





	Promises

“Good morning Mrs Smith.” You wave as you pass on her the way to the factory to take Tommy his lunch. Paper bag clutched in one hand while you lowered the other to rest on your stomach, you couldn’t help but smile at yourself as you spoke quietly to the baby narrating your actions as you walked down the lane. You even huffed in amusement as you told the baby that their daddy had told you this morning that you no longer walked but rather waddled. You’d tried to be offended and slapped him lightly on the chest but in all honesty, you couldn’t be happier; to be with the man you loved with proof of that love growing in your belly.

You can’t wait to see Tommy, the baby had kicked this morning for the first time. In your haste, you decide to take a shortcut along the canal. It’s a beautiful day, the crocus blooming in light blues and whites and the daffodil’s happy little faces bobbing in the breeze. Like you, the world seems to be bursting with the joy of new life.

As you reach the factory you catch sight of Charlie further up river on the barge. You like Charlie and Curley enjoying their quiet, gentle company at family gatherings. Charlie waves his hand pointing in your direction and you wave back. Curley appears beside him and calls out, you can’t hear exactly what he says but you call back hello. Both men are waving now and calling out. You laugh and wave the paper bag, showing them that you have Tommy’s lunch and then point to the factory indicating that you’re going inside, before turning down the alley towards the front door. Tommy didn’t like you coming in through the goods entrance because you might get hurt on the factory floor.  

“That’s one thing you’re going to have to get used to baby,” you say quietly as you rub your hand over your stomach, “your daddy is a worrier and he will do anything to keep you safe. It can feel a little stifling at times, but it’s only because he loves you.”

With that happy thought, your world suddenly and literally turns sideways. You fall heavily into the wall, all the air knocked out of your lungs. Dropping the paper bag as you bring both arms to your stomach protectively. You glance around you looking for the item that had tripped you.

“Bitch.” The greeting stands the hairs on the back of your neck on end as the realisation that you hadn’t tripped dawns on you. Even after five years, you recognise the voice.  

“Fuck off, Gerald.” You spit glaring at your ex.

Your cheek is stinging in an instant and you can taste blood in your mouth. “You watch your mouth.”

“Leave me alone.” You try to push past him, but he’s too strong. Pinning your arms to the wall.

“Now is that any way to welcome me?” Gerald says pressing his body against yours.

“I have no intention of welcoming you, Gerald. If I never see you again it will be too soon.” You struggle against him, trying to get free.

“Bitch.” Gerald roars, as he head-butts you.

Pain shoots through your nose which you immediately know is broken. There’s also a sharp pain in the back of your head where it has slammed into the wall. You sway uneasily on your feet. You go to talk but when you open your mouth it quickly fills with blood. You spit it out, it lands on Gerald’s boot. He bellows in anger and pushes you to the ground. You land heavily on your hands and knees only to be pushed down further.

“You disgusting piece of shit. Clean that up now.” He demands. You try to crawl away, scrambling over the dusty cobblestones. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Gerald’s hand closes around your ankle and yanks hard. You land heavily on your side. Before you can recover, Gerald kicks you.

“No!” You scream reflexively drawing yourself into a protective ball. “I’m sorry.” You cry, struggling to your hands and knees. You pull your cardigan sleeve down, bunching the fabric in your palm and wiping it over the blood and spittle on his boot.

“You think that cleaning my boot is going to get you off the hook?”

“No,” you reply, falling back into the familiar pattern of trying to placate Gerald, doing whatever was necessary to stop him hurting you, and more importantly the baby.

“For fuck’s sake, you’re just smearing it everywhere you stupid cunt.”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Gerald repeats mockingly. “That’s not going to cut it love, after what you’ve done to me. Fucking sorry ain’t nearly enough.” And with that, he lays into you in a flurry of limbs. You protect yourself as best you can lowering your chest towards your knees and wrapping your arms around your head. You pray.

As the power and frequency of the blows diminish you prepare yourself for the next stage. Gerald reefs you by your hair to your knees. Your vision in one eye is occluded by blood, you can feel the lumps and bruises forming all over your body. A deep pain settles in your side, it hurts to breathe. Gerald fumbles with his pants and pulls his dick out “Open your mouth.” He demands.

You press your lips together and shake your head. The action making you feel woozy.  

He pulls a gun and points it at your head, “Open.”

Again you shake your head holding his eye defiantly.

“OI!” One of the factory workers cries from the end of the alley.

“Fuck off and mind your own,” Gerald yells wrapping his hand over your mouth and trying to pull your jaw down.

“OI!” A group of men are running towards you brandishing various tools from the factory.

Gerald looks from you to the gang running towards him. “You stupid bitch, you think Tommy Shelby can save you from me? You’re mine, and I decide what happens to you. You’ve betrayed me and now you’re going to pay for it.”

You wrap your arms around yourself using them to protect the baby. You feel the punch of the bullet immediately, able to follow the searing path through you. It knocks you back and you lie on your back watching Gerald run from you. You don’t turn your head towards the voice next to you demanding to know if you were alive. Fingers grasp your wrist before dropping it again. Instructions are shouted and you’re aware of being lifted. For a moment you wonder if you are being drawn up into heaven, that peace shattered as someone presses hard against your wound. You cry out in pain.

“Sorry, Miss Lydia, not meaning to hurt you, just gonna take you to the hospital.” Curley’s gentle voice reassures you.

You look up at him, another wave of nausea washing over you “Tommy.” You plead.

“They’re just getting him now.”

Tommy holds you tightly against him, arms and legs wrapped around you keeping you on the back seat of the car. He pushes the rag firmly against your side. You hiss in pain, trying to pull away from the pressure.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but we have to stop the bleeding,” Tommy says gently, his free hand brushing your hair from your face. “You’re going to be alright.” He says.

You allow your head to fall back so you can see his face. He looks so worried, he needs to be happy you decide. “Tommy,” your voice sounds small against the thrum of the engine of the car. “Tommy,” you repeat.

Tommy looks at you, his eyes wide, a streak of blood on his cheek. “Are you hurt?” You ask, worried.

Tommy’s eyes close for a moment “No darling I’m not hurt.” He lifts you a little and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Tommy,” you begin again “The baby kicked today, they’re so strong.”

Tommy’s face crumples and he lowers his head to yours again. “Did he?” You can feel his lips brushing against the skin below your ear, his breath warm on your skin.

“It’s a girl.” You reply, placing your hand over his and sliding it down onto your stomach. “Polly says so.”

“Well, she’s never wrong about these things,” Tommy says, his voice is tight. He rests his head in the crook of your neck. Sliding his hand back to the rag and pressing against it. You flinch and moan slightly.  “Now shush, save your strength ‘ey,” Tommy whispers, pleading quietly in your ear.

“I’m tired, Tommy.” You acknowledge, allowing your eyes to close as you breathe in his warm and comforting scent.

 

Tommy looks down on you, his chest tight. Rage boils inside him. He promised you. Promised he would never let this happen to you again. Promised that Gerald would never lay a finger on you again. He had also promised not to kill Gerald the last time he beat you. That had been a mistake it was clear now. He had failed to protect you and now he would break that final promise too.

He feels your body become heavier against him. He presses his fingers against your neck, his own heart freezing in his chest until he feels the faint and thready pulse. He holds you close.

Suddenly you take a deep wavering breath, eyes opening wide. “I can’t feel her Tommy.” You say fearfully as you grab Tommy’s hand pushing it hand against your stomach. “Can you feel her Tommy?” You ask, terrified.

Tommy spreads his hand over your stomach, rubbing against it. A lump tightens his throat, but he forces himself to smile down on you, swallowing hard to speak “I can feel her.”

“Good,” you mumble before your eyes flutter closed again.

“For fuck’s sake, Arthur drive faster,” Tommy yells at his brother.

“We’re here!” Arthur cries, slamming the breaks on.

John leaps out of the car, yelling as he runs to the entrance of the hospital. “We need help, she’s been shot.”

Doctors, nurses and orderly’s pour out of the doors.

“Sir, let us take her.” A nurse insists pulling Tommy’s hand from your side.

“She’s been shot,” Tommy says numbly.

“Yes sir, let us take her now, we will look after her.” The nurse continues, taking Tommy’s hand allowing the orderlies to load you on a gurney.

“She’s pregnant,” Tommy tells the nurse. “The baby kicked for the first time today.” He says to no-one in particular.

“We’re going to do everything we can, for both of them.” The nurse assures him.

“I’ll be back, soon.” Tommy tells the nurse before he pauses taking a deep breath “Tell her I’ll be back soon.”

“Tommy,” you say, you hand dropping from the side of the gurney in search of his. Tommy takes your hand, holding it tightly. “Don’t go.” You open your eyes and look at him. “We need you.”

The cold blade of guilt plunges into Tommy’s abdomen again. “It’s alright, brother.” Arthur’s hand grips his shoulder. “You stay here, John and I will find him.”

Tommy glances at Arthur before his shoulders sag. “Alright.” He agrees. Looking down on you he squeezes your hand “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” The words feel hollow in his mouth.  

Tommy holds your hand as the medical staff rush you into the hospital. Only releasing it when the doctor tells him they need to take you to surgery. He kisses you, promising to wait until you wake up. He holds your hand, arm outstretched until your fingers slip from his as they wheel you away. He stands in the corridor watching through the small window until you disappear through another door.

The bile is bitter on the back of Tommy’s tongue and he lunges for the basin on the wall, kneeling, retching and vomiting until there is nothing left. He turns on the tap intending to rinse his mouth but instead watches as your blood stains the water and runs down the drain. Transfixed, he stands watching as the water changes from scarlet to pink, unable to bear the thought of deliberately washing you from his hands. What if it’s all he’ll have left?

“Tommy?” Ada’s gentle voice calls to him. She places her hand on his arm gently. “Let’s go sit down.” She says turning off the tap and handing him a paper towel. “Come on.” Ada wraps her arm around Tommy’s waist.

Tommy sits stiffly, staring at the wall, unseeing. Even when Polly arrives he doesn’t move. Polly looks at Ada meaningfully and Ada simply shrugs.

A doctor arrives “Mr Shelby?”

Tommy turns his attention to him “Yes.”

“We taking your wife for surgery.”

Tommy nods.

“We’re doing everything we can.” The doctor assures them. “Someone will come and speak to you afterwards.”

Tommy nods again. The doctor leaves and Tommy bends forwards slowly, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his face in his hands.

Polly places her hand on his back. “It’s a good sign, Tommy. They wouldn’t be operating if there wasn’t any hope.” She says reassuringly.

“She couldn’t feel the baby,” Tommy says softly. “So I lied and told her I could.”

Polly meets Ada’s eye as Ada’s hand bumps against hers, noticing a tear running down the younger woman’s cheek. “You did the right thing, Tommy.”

The three sit in silence waiting. Tommy smokes continuously, Ada fetching him a new pack when his case is empty. The hours tick by.

Arthur and John look from Tommy to Polly, when Tommy’s head doesn’t lift when they entered the room.

“She’s still in surgery.” She tells them.

John steps forward, cap clutched in his hand. “We got him, Tommy, 'e’s in a warehouse down by the canal.”

Tommy stands. “Let’s go.”

Arthur steps forward. “It’ll wait. You promised her you’d stay.”

Tommy glares at Arthur, before shoving him. “Don’t fucking tell me what I promised her!” He screams spittle flying from his mouth and landing or Arthur’s face.

John places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder “He’s well-guarded Tommy, let him sweat a bit ‘ey?”

“Ahem,” a doctor clears his throat. “Mr Shelby?” He asks when the eyes of the room are on him. Tommy nods. “Your wife is out of surgery.” The room is silent. Ada stands and slips her hand into Tommy’s. “She’s lost a lot of blood,” the doctor continues, “and has suffered a significant beating. There’s still no guarantees, but for now, she’s holding on.”

“The baby?” Tommy hears himself ask.

The doctor shakes his head. “The bullet severed the umbilical cord. It would have died nearly instantly, there was nothing we could do. I’m sorry.”

Tommy stumbles backwards into a chair, sitting heavily.

“A nurse will come and collect you to take you to your wife.” The doctor concludes, speaking to Polly despite addressing Tommy. Polly nods in acknowledgement.  

The room is silent as the doctor closes the door. John pulling Ada to his chest as tears roll silently down her cheeks, his own eyes red as he lowers his head. Polly sits next to Tommy, pulling a hanky from her purse. Arthur retrieves a flask from the inner pocket of his jacket, taking a swig himself before holding the flask in front on Tommy’s face. Tommy takes it and drinks deeply, his swallowing the only noise in the room.

“He’ll pay,” Arthur says finally breaking the long silence when Tommy pushes the flask back into his hand.

John releases Ada and wipes his hand over his face. “Yeah, don’t you worry Tommy he’ll pay.”

“I know,” Tommy says standing.

“Tommy,” Polly says catching his arm. “She’ll need you when she wakes up.”

Tommy shakes her hand off him. “I have to do this, it’s who I am.” He says coldly.

John opens the door, to find the nurse from earlier on the other side. She looks past John to Tommy. “You can see your wife now.”

“Go, see her,” Polly instructs.

“Come on Mr Shelby.” The nurse says with a serene smile. Tommy follows. “She’s still asleep. We’ve cleaned her up as best we can, but she has been badly beaten. Her face has a number of cuts and bruises so you need to prepare yourself. But they will fade and she’ll be her beautiful self in no time.” The nurse tells him.

Tommy walks in a daze, barely aware of the words she’s saying. Nothing seems real until he’s standing next to your bed, looking down at your pale face, swollen and mottled with blue. He feels the bile rise in his throat again but manages to swallow it down.

Brushing the hair from your face he kisses you softly on the forehead. He watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. Unable to look away in case it stopped. He can’t think, his mind blank as he waits anxiously for each breath.  

“Would you like to hold her hand?” A nurse asks softly.

Tommy blinks rapidly in surprise, how long had he been standing here willing you to breathe. “Will it hurt her?” He asks worriedly.

“No, Mr Shelby, it will probably help her to know you’re here.” The nurse explains as she stands beside Tommy folding back and sheets and lifting your hand, holding it up while she resets the covers. “Why don’t you sit down, Mr Shelby?” She suggests.

Tommy nods and does as she suggests, resting his arm on the bed and taking your hand as the nurse lowers it. The nurse moves to the other side of the bed checking your blood pressure and temperature.

“She’s doing well Mr Shelby.” The nurse says encouragingly, before taking her leave.

Tommy rests his forehead against the back of your hand. “Don’t leave me.” He says quietly. “I need you. I love you.” He repeats the words over and over in his mind, begging. He doesn’t leave, nurses and doctors come and go, checking you and assuring him you were doing well.

Polly comes the next day with clean clothes. Tommy doesn’t want to leave you for a moment but Polly points out that it had been days and he was starting to smell. The nurse suggests he take a shower and Polly promises to stay with you and to get him immediately if anything changed.

“I expect she’ll be awake soon.” A doctor informs him the next day as he finishes his examination.

Fear grips Tommy’s heart. He had settled into a comfortable state of limbo. You were alive, and while you were asleep he didn’t have to tell you about the loss of the baby. He didn’t have to face your heartbreak because of his failed promise to protect you.

For the first time, hot tears roll down Tommy’s cheeks. He presses his face into the blankets beside you. Turning your hand so it was cupping his cheek. Allowing him to believe that you would still love him when you woke and learnt the truth. He confesses all to you while you sleep, apologising over and over for breaking his promise. Drained, Tommy eventually falls into a deep sleep.

“Tommy” He can hear you calling as he feels himself begin to wake. He fights against the wakefulness. He wants to stay with you in his dream.

“Don’t go.” He moans.

“Tommy.” You repeat, watching him as he wakes.

“Don’t go.” He moans again, as he opens his eyes.

You rub your hand over his cheek as you meet his eye “I won’t I promise.”

 


End file.
